Fragment VI: Boots in the Rigging
Songbird watched the kobold spar with the large wooden barrel on deck, his small rapier jabbing repeatedly into different places. He wasn’t sure if Pluck was successfully sparring, but it almost looked like a fluid dance to him.
When it looked like Pluck had stopped for a breather, Songbird padded forward hesitantly.
“Master Pluck?”
“Wings!” the kobold greeted. “Come to marvel at my martial prowess? You could learn something watching a master at work.”
“I don’t think I could ever be as good as you,” Songbird said quietly, taking a seat on the wooden planks, crossing his legs beneath him. After a beat more of hesitation, he added, “Can I ask you something?”
Pluck blinked. “You mean like that?” His teeth were gritted together in a twisted smile as he fought poorly to keep his laughter contained.
Songbird flushed and looked away, embarrassed.
“I–y-yes.”
“Well you came to the right place,” the kobold snickered to himself and slid down the floor as well. “ I got all kinds of answers!”
“How much–” Songbird trailed off. He swallowed, then started again, “How much does Master LaVulpa owe you?”
The kobold made a show of counting on his claws. One..two..three-
“The shirt off his back,” he said suddenly.
Songbird’s brow furrowed. Confused, he asked, “How much is that?”
Pluck furrowed back. “One. One shirt. Keep up with me, Wings.”
“So if I gave you a shirt, then Master LaVulpa wouldn’t owe you anymore?” Songbird asked with a tilt of his head.
Pluck waved a clawed finger, “Nah nah nah nah. It’s gotta be his shirt.”
The fey frowned. Pluck was being difficult on purpose. Taking a deep breath, he replied, “So if I get a shirt for Master LaVulpa, then give it to you, it would be good?”
He mulled it over for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, that’s no fun. It’s gotta be his shirt so it goes with his boots.” He pointed over to a small backpack that contained the few knicknacks the kobold owned, a human sized pair of boots stuck out of the top.
Songbird eyed the boots curiously.
“I–why,” he paused, then started again, “Why would you want his boots?”
“Want them? I didn’t steal them because I want them.” Pluck said, feigning offense.
“Steal?” Songbird jerked back in alarm, almost hitting his head on the mast he was leaning on. “Won’t he get mad?”
“Well I’d hope so! That’s the point of a prank!”
Pluck stood up and looked around, then looked straight up and grinned.
“Okay okay, I’ll call it even with the Fleabag if you go hang his boots up there.” he said as he pointed to the mast, proud of himself.
Songbird looked up to where Pluck was pointing. If he moved the boots, did that count as him also stealing? A slight tremble ran through him. But Pluck didn’t seem concerned. Pluck seemed eager if anything.
“In the rigging?” he asked, “Why do you want the boots there?”
“Yeah yeah yeah, waaaaay up there. And it ain’t about what I want. It’s about what he don’t want!” Pluck scurried over to his pack and stuck his head inside, leaving his tail swishing about. The boots flew out after a few balls of twine, ball bearings, and spiky caltrops went everywhere.
Mop mopped by, mopping.
Finally, the kobold came out with his beaten up lute, which he quickly tuned and then strummed an even chord.
“It’s like this!” said Pluck. He did not have eyebrows, but wagged them up and down anyway.
Songbird hummed instinctively, matching Pluck’s chord in perfect harmony.
“Like music?” he asked.
“Nah, like THIS!” And he ran his claws over the strings in a discordant squeal while gritting his teeth.
The fey winced at the sound. Noting the kobold’s gleeful eyes, he ventured, “It’s out of tune?”
“Now you’re getting it!” Pluck hopped up and down, strumming random notes. Someone threw a tomato at him from across the deck, but it went wide. Mop mopped.
“What if there weren’t stuffy things like earholes and picky audiences to tell you what was out of tune?” asked the kobold, ready to explode.
Songbird took a moment to actually think about what Pluck was saying, despite him practically buzzing with energy in front of him.
Finally, he answered quietly, “Then…I could play…anything?”
“Anything! Freedom! No rules! Pure chaos! Boots in the rigging!” Pluck collapsed on the ground, spinning in circles as he strummed in glee.
Staring at the kobold in bewilderment, it slowly dawned on Songbird. Pluck was having…fun. The genuine happiness from him filled Songbird with a light feeling that he couldn’t explain.
“Okay,” he said, the word accompanied by a pleasant hum.
“Fleabag might be mad, but that’s only because everyone thinks boots only go on feet! We gotta show him that they can go anywhere, and then it’s fun!” said Pluck, sitting up wheezing, but he took a deep breath and stated matter-of-factly. “And that’s how pranks work.”
Songbird pressed down the brief panicked feeling that rose through him at the thought of someone being mad. Pluck was confident. It would be fine.
He leaned down, scooping up the boots with gentle fingers. Wings unfurling behind him, they shimmered in the afternoon sun. Songbird flew up to the spot in the rigging above that Pluck had pointed to, carefully hanging the boots before returning to the ground.
“PLUCK,” came a voice from below deck. “WHERE ARE MY BOOTS?!”
“WINGS DID IT!”
Songbird's Journal Ordered oldest to newest
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Fragment I - Still
14 Jan 2026 09:05:47
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Fragment II - Uncounted
14 Jan 2026 09:13:24
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Fragment III - Anchored
04 Mar 2026 02:30:44
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Fragment IV: Identity
15 Mar 2026 02:03:19
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Fragment V: Good Intentions
15 Mar 2026 02:08:26
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Fragment VI: Boots in the Rigging
16 Mar 2026 09:25:30
14 Jan 2026 09:05:47
14 Jan 2026 09:13:24
04 Mar 2026 02:30:44
15 Mar 2026 02:03:19
15 Mar 2026 02:08:26
16 Mar 2026 09:25:30
The major events and journals in Songbird's history, from the beginning to today.
Episode 10: The Wondermaker
01:27 am - 02.06.2026Episode 10: The Wondermaker
11:41 pm - 31.05.2026Episode 9: Fairy Tales and Dragon Scales
05:19 am - 18.05.2026Episode 9: Fairy Tales and Dragon Scales
12:00 am - 18.05.2026Dread Space pt 2
05:05 am - 27.04.2026Dread Space pt 2
11:33 pm - 26.04.2026Episode 7: Dread Space
02:11 pm - 14.04.2026Episode 7: Dread Space
02:11 pm - 14.04.2026Episode 6: The Rock and Hard Places
12:20 pm - 23.03.2026Episode 6: The Rock and Hard Places
12:20 pm - 23.03.2026Fragment VI: Boots in the Rigging
Songbird watched the kobold spar with the large wooden barrel on deck, his small rapier jabbing repeatedly into different places. He wasn’t sure if Pluck was successfully sparring, but it almost looked like a fluid dance to him. When it looked like Pl...
09:26 pm - 16.03.2026Fragment V: Good Intentions
Fragment V: Good Intentions The crew's quarters felt stifling despite being empty. Maybe because it was below deck, away from the open air. Or maybe because it housed crewmates that he did not know well. Songbird took a steadying breath and entere...
02:09 am - 15.03.2026Fragment IV: Identity
Songbird’s feet shuffled with uncertainty, wings fluttering anxiously behind him. He was standing outside of the captain’s quarters, staring at the wooden door. Unfortunately for the fey, the door held no answers for him. If he wanted to do this, h...
02:05 am - 15.03.2026Episode 5: Shopping Bral-room Blitz
03:58 am - 09.03.2026Episode 5: Shopping Bral-room Blitz
11:19 pm - 08.03.2026Fragment III - Anchored
[i]“Sing for me, my little songbird.”[/i] Many things can rot passion. It does not always die loudly. Sometimes it simply bends, reshaped by expectation, until what once felt like flight becomes performance. When he was enslaved, he found ...
02:35 am - 04.03.2026Episode 4: Song of Silk and Ice
04:40 am - 23.02.2026Episode 4: Song of Silk and Ice
11:40 pm - 22.02.2026Episode 3: Can Can Cant
04:26 am - 02.02.2026Episode 3: Can Can Cant
12:18 am - 02.02.2026Songbird - The Beginning - by Nick
02:11 am - 19.01.2026Fragment II - Uncounted
“Now that we’re free ‘n clear, don’t wanna seem greedy, lads. Here’s the cut of our score - fifty silver.” Songbird stared at the currency that sat in Fynn’s outstretched hand before hesitantly reaching forward. His long, slender finger...
09:14 pm - 14.01.2026Fragment I - Still
Songbird trembled. He was told to stop. And he did, truly, he did. But Armitage had hoisted him over his shoulder and carried him onto the ship. A soft, dismayed hum began deep in his chest. Faerûn fell away before his eyes as the ship deck l...
09:12 pm - 14.01.2026Fragment I - Still
# Fragment I — Still *Session 1 | The Siren* Songbird trembled. He was told to stop. And he did, truly, he did. But Armitage had hoisted him over his shoulder and carried him onto the ship. A soft, dismayed hum began deep in his chest. F...
09:12 pm - 14.01.2026The Journal Entry’s title
Begin writing your story here...“Now that we’re free ‘n clear, don’t wanna seem greedy, lads. Here’s the cut of our score - fifty silver.” Songbird stared at the currency that sat in Fynn’s outstretched hand before hesitantly reaching fo...
06:56 pm - 14.01.2026Episode 2: Of Whales and Want
04:31 am - 12.01.2026Episode 2: Of Whales and Want
11:59 pm - 11.01.2026Session 1: Tax Evasion
09:31 pm - 15.12.2025Session 1: Tax Evasion
09:31 pm - 15.12.2025The list of amazing people following the adventures of Songbird.



Social
Birthplace
The Feywild
Current Residence
Balder's Gate
Contacts & Relations
A Forgotten Face: In dreams, he recalls a figure from the Feywild—a warm voice, laughter, a flower crown—but he doesn’t know if they were real or imagined.
The Other Prisoners: Fellow captives from the start of the campaign. He may not trust them fully yet, but they are the first people he's ever known outside captivity. He watches them, listens to them, and quietly mirrors their behaviors.
His Slaver (Unnamed): A wealthy noble or collector—obsessive, possessive, and views Songbird more as a living music box than a person. Songbird refuses to speak his name if he even remembers it.
Honorary & Occupational Titles
Songbird – The only name he knows. It was given to him by his captor and reinforced by years of performance. He’s starting to wonder if he once had another.
Wealth & Financial state
Current: None. He likely escaped in rags with no money and no concept of currency value. He might not even know the price of bread.
Mindset: Money is confusing. He doesn’t understand why some things are worth more than others—he was never allowed to want anything.
Tendency: Gives away coins easily if someone seems kind or needy. Will probably hide valuables in strange places (under a floorboard, inside a lute).
Family Ties
Unknown. He was taken from the Feywild as a child—too young to remember family clearly.
Vague memories of laughter, flowers, light, and a soothing voice that called him by a name he’s long forgotten.
Religious Views
Uncertain. Songbird has no formal religion—his slaver never allowed it. He was told the gods were distant and unkind.
Personal Belief: He quietly believes music is sacred, a thread of magic connecting all living things. It’s not a faith with a name, just something he feels.
Fey Influence: Deep down, he feels the Feywild was once a home. He is drawn to fey deities (like Sehanine Moonbow, Corellon) and old lullabies from his homeland.
Social Aptitude
Low charisma behavior, high charisma stats. (Classic bard irony!)
He’s polite, withdrawn, and deeply anxious in new social settings. He’ll defer, shrink, and try to observe before acting.
But when singing or magically performing, he becomes mesmerizing—his social magic comes from instinct, not confidence.
He doesn’t lie often, but when he does, it’s quiet and unsettlingly believable.
Mannerisms
Holds himself small, arms close, shoulders rounded.
Speaks softly with long pauses; rarely interrupts.
Clutches at his collar or clothes when nervous.
Will hum or tap rhythmically with fingers when overwhelmed.
When feeling safe: may sit curled up, braid his hair, or mimic someone else's gestures like a child watching adults.
Hobbies & Pets
Pets: None currently, but he’s drawn to birds—especially ones in cages. May try to free them without thinking.
Hobbies:
Speech
Volume: Whisper-soft, almost always. Louder only when startled, angry, or singing.
Style: Formal, cautious, poetic. May sound overly polite or "too careful" for his age.
Quirks: